’ “Crude, I admit. ‘There’s no controlling you, is there?’ He held up his hands. ’ ‘Poor sort of a mother,’ Martha said with bitterness. “What else was I to do?” For some seconds she stood watching him and both were thinking very quickly. "You won't betray him. " He laughed and followed her into the hotel. I had a hunch. We are expecting a visit from Sir John Ferringhall at any moment. 1715.
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